


True Identity

by orphan_account



Series: Lord of the Rings [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Aragorn Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Crying, Elrond is a good parent, Elvish, Estel Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gandalf Does Not Know All, Gandalf Meddles, Hurt Aragorn, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Identity Issues, Men Crying, Pain, Panic Attacks, Parent Elrond, Platonic Relationships, Poor Aragorn, Protective Elrond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 05:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Young Estel has finally come of age. Elrond tells him of his true identity. Things do not go well.





	True Identity

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, I am back with more Tolkien garbage. Might just be this one chapter, might add on to it. Depends on how people like it! I hope you enjoying reading this work!
> 
> I am keeping Cassia and Sio's head canon that Aragorn knew Legolas before the events of the Fellowship, and Aragorn thought of Elrond as 'ada'. 
> 
> Elvish translations: 
> 
> Ion nin - 'my son'  
Ada - 'father'  
Gwador - 'brother-in-everything-but-blood'

“How long has he been in there?”

Gandalf gripped his staff and followed Elladan quickly down the winding hallways. He would normally marvel at the beauty and tranquility of Rivendell, but passing through the lovely place, he ran into one of Elrond’s eldest son, who seemed shaken and in need of help. He didn’t exactly know much about what had happened, but from the broken words of Elladan, he knew it was about Estel.

“A while. Elrohir has been at the door for a good hour trying to get him to come out.”

“And your father?” 

“In his study, Mithrandir.” Gandalf nodded, following the elf through the large building. He was about to turn a large corner, when Elladan suddenly stopped, resting his body against the wall corner, breathing heavily. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked the young elf. The brown-haired elf turned around, a look of pure concern and sadness on his face. 

“Elladan?”

“What if he doesn’t love us anymore?” the elf’s voice sounded broken, and Gandalf noticed that he almost looked like the young child he once was. Noticing his clear distress, the wizard bent down to face him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“I am sure he is just upset, young elf. Give him some time. He will come around.” he reassured. Elladan nodded, catching his breath before standing up straight and beckoning Gandalf further down the hall. They reached a room with a large, brown door. Elladan knocked, and a voice told them to enter. 

“Ada.” the elf said, “I have Mithrandir with me.”

Lord Elrond sat in a large chair behind his desk. His face radiated distress, and his hair was slightly tousled, as if he were running his hands hair through it. 

“Greetings, Mithrandir.” he said, “I am sorry that you are here under such circumstances, but-” 

Gandalf nodded in greeting, walking closer to the elf. As he got closer, he noticed the lines of worry creasing his face and his eyes were pinched with stress.

“Elladan, ion nin. Thank you for your help. Please leave us and Mithrandir to speak alone.” he spoke warmly, gesturing for his son to leave. Elladan nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. Gandalf could hear the elf’s frantic steps down the echoing hallways, and turned to Elrond. 

“Someone still has yet to tell me what is going on. Care to explain to me why I found your eldest in a state of panic?” he asked soberly, stroking his beard in thought. Elrond sighed, his eyes heavy with guilt. 

“Is this about Estel?” the wizard asked, thinking about what might possibly be wrong with the human. Elrond nodded and sighed.

“I told him.” 

Gandalf’s eyes widened in surprise, then realization. Those three words explained everything. Estel had recently come of age, afterall, and himself and Lord Elrond along with a few other elves who knew about it, all agreed to tell young Aragorn of his true identity not long after he had reached young adulthood. They figured that he would be mature enough to take it all in, and later in life, take back his kingdom. 

Gandalf felt a small smile pull at his lips. “I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you thought it would?” 

Elrond sighed and rubbed his temples, getting up from his chair. “I thought that once he had come of age, he would understand why we kept it from him, but…” he paused, “I’m afraid not. He is rather angry with me.”

Estel had always been such a carefree child, barely questioning why he was raised by the elves of Rivendell in the first place. Gandalf could understand why the boy felt so confused and conflicted. 

“And he knew that he was not your real son?” 

Elrond nodded. “Of course. It never really seemed to bother him. But I never thought any less of him than my own children. I will always think of him as a third son.” 

Gandalf smiled warmly. Estel really  _ was _ blessed with a lovely foster-father.

“He is obviously feeling conflicted. Learning of the cruel fate of your birth parents is always hard.” Gandalf explained, “Throw being the heir to a lost throne into the mix just makes everything so much more difficult for the child. Not to mention that he has been living under a different name for nearly his entire life. It’s hard for someone as young as him to wrap his head around.” 

“Right.” Elrond replied, “I tried talking to him, but his reaction was nothing but anger. He shut himself up in his room, and now his brothers are doing everything they can to get him to open up. Could you-”

“I will talk to him.” Gandalf replied, smiling in reassurance. Elrond seemed to relax after that offer, and Gandalf backed up towards the door. 

“Thank you, Mithrandir. He was always very fond of you when you came to visit. I hope he will listen to you.”

The wizard nodded and opened the door before noticing the look of distress on Elrond had not yet faded after their conversation. 

“Is there something else wrong, Lord Elrond?” he asked. Elrond nodded grimly. He sighed deeply and looked up at the wizard. 

“I just...I pray that I have not tainted my relationship with him. I just wanted what was best for him. Maybe I should have waited longer to tell him about his heritage..” he rambled, his worries of breaking the close bond with his son clearly visible. 

“Do not blame yourself for this.” Gandalf replied, “We all agreed to tell him once he had come of age. We would not know his reaction. This is far from your fault, Elrond. Please, remember that.” 

Elrond nodded, the look of a concerned father still evident on his face. Gandalf nodded a goodbye, and walked down the hallway to find the boy. 

***

Once he thought he had gotten completely lost and taken a wrong turn somewhere, Gandalf heard echoes of the twins from further down the hall. He walked quickly and briskly turned the corner to where Elladan and Elrohir were standing, looks of worry on their face. 

“Brother, please. Open the door. We just want to talk.” Elrohir said sadly as Elladan banged on the door. With no response, their begging got louder and louder until Gandalf reached them. 

“Oh, thank the Valar you are here!” Elrohir said to the wizard as he neared the door. Gandalf smiled in greeting and raised an eyebrow. 

“What seems to be the problem here?” he asked the twins. 

“Estel has locked himself in his room. We just want to speak with him.” Elrohir explained as Elladan knocked again. The wizard nodded in understanding and the twins stepped back as he made his way to the door. 

With one knock, he cleared his throat. 

“Leave me be!” the muffled voice from behind the door replied. Gandalf set down his staff and knocked once more. 

“Estel. It is Gandalf. I would like to speak with you. Please, open the door, child.”

There was silence before Gandalf heard the click of a lock. The twins gaped as the door creaked open slightly. 

“Go find your ada.” he ordered the twins, who quickly disappeared down the hallway. Without another word, Gandalf slipped into the doorway and squinted as it was completely dark. 

“Estel? My child, must it be so dark in here?” 

There was no answer, so Gandalf snapped his fingers, and the candle on the human’s dresser lit, bathing the whole room in a dim light. Squinting, Gandalf looked around to try and find the young man. 

“My eyes fail me, Estel. I cannot find you in this darkness.” 

“That’s not my name.” 

A sniffle from the other side of the room was heard, and Gandalf turned to Estel, who was sitting quietly on the side of his bed, long hair covering part of his face. He was staring angrily at the ground. Gandalf quietly pulled up a chair and sat across from him.

“Oh? Would you rather me call you Aragorn, then? A name you barely know yourself?” Gandalf retorted. Estel clenched his fists tightly before letting them release. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.The pained look on the young man’s face was enough to speak volumes, and the wizard inched himself and the chair closer. 

“You..knew?” Estel looked up at the wizard, his eyes like burning flames. His voice was small, hardly the voice of a future king. Gandalf nodded slowly, and Estel stood up abruptly, shaking with anger. 

“You...you KNEW.  _ You  _ knew, and  _ Elrond _ knew, and  _ Elrohir and Elladan _ knew--EVERYONE knew what I truly was and--and you couldn’t bother to tell me before?! No one could even tell me my real name?!” 

He was yelling now; yelling and pacing the room, floorboards creaking aggressively underneath his feet. Gandalf rose to stand and attempted to calm him. He had never seen this much anger from such a caring, calm child. 

“Estel, try to understand. We had to keep your identity secret. Elrond just wanted what was best for you.”

Estel growled, breathing loudly through his teeth. 

“How? _ How  _ is this BEST for me?!” he bellowed at the wizard, running a hand through his hair angrily. 

“Elrond just wanted you to have a normal childhood, Estel.” Gandalf replied calmly. He knew that the boy was conflicted; but he had to calm down before he got himself hurt.

“I don’t care what ANYONE thought was best for me! I’ve been LIED to my ENTIRE LIFE!” he shrieked, finally losing his temper completely. He lashed his arm out, pushing over a bedside table. The glass vase filled with yellow flowers flew off the table and fell to the ground, a loud crash sending pieces of glass across the stone floor. The bedside table crashed into the large, delicate glass mirror decorating his room, glass flying up in the air before falling to the ground and mixing with the glass of the vase. The mirror crashed to the floor.

Gandalf felt a sliver of pain on his face as a rogue piece of glass struck his cheek, blood quickly dripping down his cheek. He wiped it quickly away and raised his eyebrows in surprise at the young man. 

The harsh echo of the crash and the sound of glass littering the floor still echoed through the empty halls and confines of Estel’s room left them both speechless.

Gandalf spoke up, his voice quiet and stern.

“Estel.” 

The man no longer looked angry. The expression on his face eradicated any previous anger. His eyes were widened; flickering as they locked eyes with Gandalf’s. He looked like a scolded child. At the sight of the wizard’s cut cheek, he began to breathe shallower, a hand grasped at his chest. A small whine escaped from him as he slumped forward.

“I’m sorry…” he whimpered, his breathing becoming more and more erratic, “Gandalf--I’m--I’m sorry…”

His entire body was shaking like a leaf as he reached forward to look at the wizard’s small cut, his eyes now brimming with unshed tears. Gandalf shook his head and stepped out of the pile of glass, as did Estel, who could barely keep himself steady enough to walk. 

“Estel.” he started, but once again, was interrupted, this time by a loud sob that wracked the young man’s body. Gandalf watched in silence as the sobs became more and more erratic, completely taking over the man’s body. Tears were now streaming down his face as he leaned his head back, trying to breathe. 

“Oh, Estel…” Gandalf said quietly. He knew that the anger was just a mask from the pain he had felt, the confusion , but the wizard didn’t expect the man to break down so easily. He stepped forward and outstretched his arms, and Estel gladly fell into him, completely breaking down. 

Gandalf led them to the couch on the other side of the glass-covered floor, and let Estel sink into his robes, muffled sobs shaking his body. 

“I’m--I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to--mean to hurt you--” he sobbed, clutching the grey robes with his hands. Gandalf shook his head and rubbed his back. 

“Never mind about that. I know it was accidental, Estel.” he replied. Estel sniffled, still sobbing, if not a bit quieter, into Gandalf’s warm embrace. Being alive for so long, the wizard was good at comforting people. 

“I’m--I’m not supposed to cry-” Estel’s breath hitched, lifting his head up, “Too old to cry--”

The wizard just shook his head once more. “You are never too old to cry, my child. I can see that you are in great pain. You are allowed to cry.” 

Estel just sniffled and tried to catch his breath, putting his head in his hands. “All my life, I’ve been lied to; about my parents, my name, my identity...there’s nothing about me that’s true anymore..”

The wizard was trying his hardest to console the poor human, but it seemed that nothing was getting through to him.

“That is not true, Estel. You grew up with  _ your _ family,  _ your _ name, and the identity  _ you _ choose to have is yours.” the wizard replied. Estel nodded and sat up, burying his face in his hands. 

No matter how hard Estel tried, his tears refused to cease and his breath kept hitching.

Gandalf’s ears perked up as he heard the familiar sound of footsteps running frantically down the hall, and the door to Estel’s room being thrown open. 

“Estel! What is going on?” Elrond ran in, gasping as he saw the state of the floor. 

“We heard a loud crash trying to find ada, when we--” Elladan stopped his trail of speech once he saw the state of his Gwador. 

“Estel…” Elrohir said quietly. Elrond spun around to face his son, and his features immediately hardened. 

“Is he injured?” he asked Gandalf briskly. Gandalf nodded.

“Not physically.”

“Please find someone to clean this up.” Elrond ordered his sons, who were already on it. Now having full attention to his youngest, Elrond stepped closer and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. 

“Ion nin…” he murmured, running a hand through his son’s hair. Estel pushed his hand away. 

“I am  _ not _ your son.” he sniffled, “I’m--I’m Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor.” 

Elrond felt his expression soften as he sat down next to Estel. He felt the man tense up as he sat down, but continued to run his hands through his hair. 

“Estel, you will  _ always _ be my son. I have raised you almost all of your life. I have never treated you any less than my biological children. I  _ love _ you, ion nin.” 

Estel tensed up even more, taking his hands off his face to reveal his blotchy eyes, red from oncoming tears. His face looked grim.

“I have heard the tales of Isildur. How he did nothing but cause destruction and mayhem.” Estel sniffled, “How can you love someone related to such a  _ monster?” _

Elrond’s breath hitched in realization. “No, no, Estel...You shall never meet that same fate…” 

Estel looked up at him in fear. “But what if I do?”

Elrond felt guilt shroud over him; he should have explained everything in a different way, a different time, with more people present. Now, because of him, he fears that he might become corrupted.

“I should have told you later…” he whispered to himself, “I’m sorry, Estel…” 

Estel whimpered as he buried his face into Elrond’s robes, being embraced by his foster-father giving him comfort. 

“I’m scared, ada…” he whispered, letting Elrond hug him tightly in his lap like a child.

“Oh, Estel...I know you are. It’s going to be alright, ion nin…” he whispered words of comfort into his son’s ear until his breathing slowed and Estel’s tears ceased. Eyes still slightly opened, his head lay in Elrond’s lap, starting to drift off to sleep. 

“I’m sorry I broke the mirror…” he said sleepily, yawning. Elrond stroked his son’s forehead and told him that all was forgiven. 

Gandalf, who had been silent this whole time, finally stood up when Estel had fallen asleep. 

“He cannot sleep in his bed tonight. It is covered in glass.” he pointed out. Elrond nodded and Gandalf picked up the sleeping man. 

“Let us put him in the guest room next to mine. That way I can hear if anything else goes awry.”

Gandlaf nodded and, careful not to wake up, started carrying Estel down the hallways, Elrond following him. 

“Do you think it was a mistake telling him?” Elrond asked his friend. Gandalf shook his head. 

“It needed to be said. He is under a lot of stress, though. I recommend letting him rest and wrap his head around everything. He will understand in due time.” 

Reaching the bed, Gandalf placed Estel there, and Elrond pulled the covers over him. He still looked much like an adolescent, merely a child. Not a king. Elrond wished that this was not his torch to bear. 

“Goodnight, ion nin.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, well, if it isn't the reader... If you clicked on this and read it all the way through, chances are that you're probably craving some Aragorn/Estel angst just as much as I am. I'm willing to write more, so tell me what you think of it. I'll even take prompts if any of you have any, we do have a pretty small community on here, after all. 
> 
> I hope you liked this work, Kudos and feedback always warm my heart, so please tell me what you thought of this ;)


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